"Aunt Laaaurie!! Over here!" Paul McCartney called to his aunt in the Calgary airport. He, John Lennon, George Harrison, and Ringo Starr had accepted Paul's aunt's invitation to visit Alberta to see her and had just stepped off the plane.

Paul could see Aunt Laurie turning her head as she scanned the area for the Beatles, but couldn't seem to find them.

"HEY, LAURIE WOMAN! YOUR NEPHEW IS OVER HERE!" John screamed at the top of his lungs. "HE ISN'T HARD TO SPOT! Not with a face like that..."

Paul kicked John in the shin, but was thankful his aunt now spotted them.

"Ohh, I'm so glad to see you!" Aunt Laurie announced, hurrying over. She gave Paul a big hug and was introduced to the other three. "Well, come on. Let's get going home," she suggested. She grabbed Ringo's carry on bag, and led the way to the car.

"Christ, it's cold out here!" John cried as they stepped out of the building.

"Yep. It started snowing last night and the temperature just kept dropping," Aunt Laurie replied. She unlocked her car and Paul slid in the back while the other three squeezed in the back.

"So, uh, what do people do here for entertainment?" John wondered.

Paul knew what that really meant. In John language that was translated to, "where's the nearest pub?"

"Pretty much the same things you do in England, I'd imagine. We have lots of stuff to do when it's cold like this," Aunt Laurie explained, starting the car and driving out of the airport parking lot. "We have-"

"BEARS! Holy, there's a bear out there!" Ringo, who had been staring out the window, yelled, and jumped into George's lap.

Aunt Laurie squinted as she peered out. "Hmm... that's not a bear. It's a person."

"A person? You have freaky people around here," Ringo muttered, slipping off George.

"It's just a fur coat that they're wearing," Aunt Laurie said.

"And fur hat... and mitts... and boots!" Ringo grumbled. "Don't you ever have problems telling bears and people apart?"

Laurie laughed. "Nope. We don't have any bears around here. They don't live in the city."

The rest of the car ride to Laurie's house was silent after that point. But the four Beatles pushed their faces against the window glass as they finally pulled into the driveway and watched a bunch of kids playing in a snowy park on sleds.

"Hmm... rather childish sleds are, eh?" John remarked as he and the other three lads stared at the kids, and then began climbing out of the car.

"Yeah, I agree. We're definitely far too old for that kind of stuff," George spoke up, dragging his suitcase out of the trunk.

"Definitely," Paul echoed.

The Beatles exchanged looks, then threw their luggage inside the house and ran back out, screaming and laughing. Paul snatched a toboggan out of the garage and all four Beatles squeezed in.

"Alright, now where's a hill?" Ring demanded.

John pointed down a street. "There!"

"We can't ride through the middle of a road!" George exclaimed.

John snorted. "And why not?" He pushed off and they all went flying down the street.

"Whoa... WHOA!!!" Ringo shrieked as the sled narrowly missed a parked car. "WHO'S DRIVING THIS SUCKER?!"

"I am, now shut up and relax," John ordered.

Paul grunted. "Yeah, right. John's steering and we're supposed to RELAX?"

"Hey, I'm doing a fab job," John protested. The toboggan hit a bump and picked up some air as it continued speeding down the hill.

"Some 'fab job'!" George exclaimed. "Hey, hey, John... LAMPOST!! STEER CLEAR OF THE LAMPOST!"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm trying..." John grumbled.

"HELP!" Ringo warbled. "I NEED SOMEBODY!"

"John, whad are you doing? Are you TRYING to run into that pole?" Paul demanded as the lamp loomed closer and closer.

"Uh, no... I can't turn away," John announced.

The Beatles looked up for a moment, then threw themselves off just before the toboggan hit the post.

"Ok, that's it!" Paul declared as the four snow-covered lads stood up and began climbing up the hill, George trailing the sled behind them. "NEVER let Lennon drive again. Maybe I should steer next time."

"There isn't going to BE a next time," Ringo said. "I now have a phobia of sleds... and lampposts." He re-straighted his hat, which was lying lopsided on his head.

"Hey, didn't you just say you hated fur clothes?" John wondered, pointing to his hat.

Ringo shrugged. "Yeah... but then I saw this gear raccoon thing in Aunt Laurie's closet and decided it was pretty cool."

"It looks like you scraped something off the road and plunked it on your head," George remarked.

"I personally wouldn't wear anything that has a tail hanging off of it." John announced.

Ringo raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like you're jealous."

John blinked. "Jealous of some dead animal lying life-less on your head?!"

Ringo took off the hat and examined it. "It... it's not REAL, is it?"

"Lord knows," Paul muttered. He put the toboggan back in the garage and then the boys walked into Laurie's house.

"There you four are!" Aunt Laurie exclaimed. Seeing that they were covered in snow, she asked, "What happened to you?"

"Well, you see, a big gorilla came from one of your neighbor's garage, wrestled us onto the ground, and then this street cleaner ran us over, dragged us six miles, and we hitched a ride back on a zebra." John said.

Aunt Laurie blinked. "Alrighty..."

"What John means is we were just playing around in the snow a little," Paul put in. "John is just a little sick in the head-"

"I'M sick in the head?!" John interrupted. "You're the most-"

"Okay, I think we get the point," George spoke up. "You're both nuts." He knew some of the language that went on between John and Paul and didn't want Laurie to hear any of it.

Paul grunted then flung the refrigerator open. "Got anything to eat?"

"Um, not really. I have to go shopping tomorrow. In the meantime, do you want to go out for dinner tonight?" Aunt Laurie suggested.

John's eyes lit up. "Sure!"

"She doesn't mean go to a pub, Lennon," Paul announced, finding a container of leftover mashed potatoes and scraping some out with his bare hands.

"Oh," John said. "Well, I guess that's okay anyway."

The four lads and Laurie piled back into the car, Ringo still wearing his raccoon hat, John mumbling about how it'd be nice to go to a bar later, and Paul chewing on a glob of potatoes. They went into an Italian restaurant and all ordered spaghetti.

"Hmm. These worms are nice and slimy," Paul murmured, picking up a noodle with his fingers and slurping it up.

"Um, here's a fork Paul," Laurie said pointedly, pushing the utensil across the table.

"Hey, thanks!" Paul used the fork to pick his teeth before going back to slurping up noodles.

Laurie hid her head in one of her hands.

A loud burp from the other side of the table caused everyone in the restaurant to glance over. George blinked and looked just as surprised as everyone else. "That wasn't me, was it?"

"Aw, come on Geo, don't be so modest! That was great!" John slapped George on the back.

Laurie moaned and slumped lower in her seat as people began staring.

"What's the matter, Aunt Laurie? Do you feel sick? Ooh, are you going to finish that spaghetti?" Paul pointed to her half-full plate.

Laurie shook her head and pushed the food away. "No, help yourself."

The four Beatles pounced on the food and demolished it in 11 seconds flat.

"Hmm. That was good," Ringo remarked after they had all finished.

George belched again in agreement.

Laurie quickly paid the bill and hurried the Beatles out of the restaurant, hoping to get them out of public before anyone else saw their... habits.

"Do you four want to see some lights? There's a place about 20 minutes out of the city that has a huge setup of different patterns of lights. It's pretty neat," Aunt Laurie suggested.

"No pubs?" John asked hopefully.

"No pubs Lennon. Come on, we might as well go. There isn't anything else to do tonight anyways," Paul pointed out.

So the Beatles and Aunt Laurie piled into the car and began the trip out of town. However, about fifteen minutes on the highway, the car began to sputter and finally died.

"Oh no," Laurie muttered, trying unsuccessfully to restart it. "I think the engine's dead."

Ringo blinked, then froze and a panicky expression crossed his face. "What? What are you saying?! Noooo! Bloody 'ell, we're all gonna die in here! We're gonna die, we're gonna die!!!"

"Relax Ringo," Paul instructed. "I'm sure Aunt Laurie can get it going again."

Laurie bit her lip. "I don't know boys. The car's stalled a couple times this week and each time I had managed to get it going , but I think it's really dead this time. We're going to need some help."

"WE'RE GONNA DIE, WE'RE GONNA DIE!!" Ringo screamed, jumping, once again, into George's lap.

"Ring, we're going to be fine," George insisted, trying to move his friend back onto his own seat. Ringo kept his hands firmly around George's neck.

"I'll see if I can get someone to stop," John offered. He stepped out of the car and stuck his thumb towards the road, trying to get the attention of any passing vehicle.

"*John's* going to get us help?! Ohhhh, we're gonna die!" Ringo moaned.

**Three hours later**

"WE'RE GONNA DIE!!"

"Oh for heaven's sake Ringo, SHUT UP!" Paul growled.

Laurie rubbed her aching head. "John, isn't ANYONE stopping?"

"NO! There's been dozens of cars that went by, but NOT ONE stopped! The people who live here are freakin' pigs, that's what!" John replied, still waving his thumb hopelessly through the air.

Laurie rolled her eyes. "Thanks."

"This is getting us nowhere!" John snapped and returned to the car, shivering.

"Aw, come on, Winnie. It can't be *that* hard to stop a car!" George exclaimed, stepping from the automobile.

"Be my guest! And DON'T call me Winnie!" John ordered.

George snatched the fur hat off Ringo's head and threw it down in the middle of the street.

"Hey! What are you doing?! That's me hat!" Ringo complained.

At that moment, a van passed by and drove right over the lumpy fur hat, then instantly pulled over.

"Someone's stopped!" Paul exclaimed gleefully. "Help!"

A tall, thin man stepped from his vehicle looking worried. "What did I kill?"

"Um, it was just a squirrel or something. But hey, now that you're here, we'd love if you gave us a ride home!" George remarked with a grin.

"Ah, well, actually I'm very busy-" the man began.

George swiftly slid in the car. "I'm sure you can't be too busy to quickly drop us off in town. Otherwise... you know we could press charges on you for murdering an innocent squirrel."

"It was an accident!" the man exclaimed.

"Hey, tell it to the judge," George responded.

"Fine, fine, I'll give you a lift," the man said, throwing up his hands.

Ringo scraped his hat off the street and then he, John, Paul, and Laurie hopped into the car and they headed back into the city.

"You know, George, maybe you're not *that* dumb after all," John commented a short while later as the four Beatles lay on a sofa in Laurie's house.

"Not *that* dumb?" George repeated.

John shrugged. "Alright, so it was a pretty brilliant idea to throw a dead animal into the street."

"Brilliant idea?! You completely slaughtered me hat!" Ringo exclaimed.

"Well at least we got home safely," Paul pointed out. "If we had done things John's way we'd probably still be sitting in the car freezing our butts off."

"Hey, it's not like YOU were offering any ideas," John answered.

Paul shrugged.

"So what's happening with Aunt Laurie's car?" George wondered. "Is it still sitting there in the middle of that highway?"

"Yep. Aunt Laurie said a tow truck would bring it back home tomorrow morning," Paul explained.

John pulled out a pack of cigarettes and passed them around. "Anyone want one? I stole them out of that guys' car."

Paul's jaw dropped. "John!"

John grinned innocently. "Yes?"

Paul just shook his head and took one of the cigarettes.

The Beatles then leaned back in their seats and enjoyed the rest of their uneventful but pleasurable vacation in Alberta.